For the past ten years, we have been staying at the same hotel. Many of the staff know us by name and even remember our personal preferences: extra towels, how we take our coffee, what paper we prefer, etc. It really brings an extra level of comfort to our stay. I’ll admit, I like it.
While hotels are nice, nothing compares to the luxury of our own home. Though I love New York and everything that comes with it, I have moments where I truly miss my bed. So using the same hotel and being welcomed by the same people each time, certainly makes the stay less stressful.
This morning, I left the room by myself, planning to take the stairs. Remember? Elevators are not for me. I shared with you about my claustrophobia a few days ago. If you missed it, you can read about it here. So as many of you may already know, if no one is with me, I will not get in an elevator.
“Good morning,” I said to the Butler.
“Good morning, Mrs. St. Pierre. How are you today?” he asked.
“I’m fine, thank you for asking.”
“Is there anything I can do for you this morning?” he asked.
“No, not really,” I said
“Let me know if there is anything you need.”
“Oh, actually, would you do me a favor? Could you please ride with me in the elevator to the lobby?” I asked.
“Of course. My pleasure,” he said.
“Thank you,” I said as we proceeded to the elevators.
“So, you really are claustrophobic, aren’t you?” he asked, out of the blue.
“How do you know?” I replied.
“Oh, I read your blog,” he smiled.
“Really?” I was stunned. I didn’t expect it.
“Yes. I love your blogs,” he added.
“Thank you. I’m flattered,” I said, trying to hide how overwhelmed I was.
It is not every day that I come across strangers who recognize my work and follow my blog. I definitely didn’t expect that the butler in the hotel would read them.
I guess staying at the same hotel over and over has its advantages. Though I must say, not every butler is as special as Christian. Though he has only been at our hotel for two years, he’s so professional and fits right in at the St. Regis. I took a moment in the elevator to get to know him better and found out that he is originally from Mexico and came to the states in order to follow his father. He quickly made New York his new home.
Though you can’t take your home with you when you travel, I’m grateful that we’ve found a special place where we truly feel welcomed. And who knows? Maybe we’ll get our own place here, in Manhattan, soon.
Muchas gracias, Christian!